Axle's New Theif
by Avariel600
Summary: Just a quickie done more for fun than anything else. Poor Nevalle never gets any love ingame, and I thought I'd rectify the situation.


"Sir Nevalle!" Willum raced up to him, ignoring the disapproving glares from the nobles he had jostled. "We've got her! They've reported a weapons shipment going through the docks tonight, and she's at the head of it!" He was tumbling over his wordsin his excitement, and Nevalle held up both hands, his voice stern.

"Not here. Come with me to the Watch House...I want Brelainna in on this too."

"Yes, my lord!"

o o o o o o

The Watch Captain looked up from her reports. "I figured you'd want to be in on this one personaly, milord," she said, her deep, even voice touched with a bit of amusement. "The reports are right here; our inside source claims that the Shadow Thieves are moving that weapons cache tonight, and that Axle has put Braidee DeMarcus at the head of the operation." Brelainna handed him one of the reports. "My lord...if we play this right, we might be able to finally capture her."

It was hard for him not to ride along with the excited edge in Brelainna's voice, but he kept his voice calm. "Assemble me some of your finest, Captain," he said gravely. "No more then ten men at the most. We need to be as discreet as possible. And make _sure _they're the best," he said, a hint of warning in his voice. "I'll be leading this one myself."

This time, he wouldn't let Lord Nasher down.

o o o o o o

The air was still, darkness thick and tangible all around them. The normal night time ambient noise that usually plagued the Docks district was smothered by the high warehouses surrounding Nevalle and his men. They had been waiting for an hour, and he was starting to worry. No sight nor sound, hide nor hair of the thieves had crossed their path yet. It had been a long time since he had been on a field mission; he had forgotten how much of them were actually spent sitting around, waiting for something to happen...

He had forgotten a lot, it seemed. Standing in the midst of these men, armored and armed, he slowly remembered how the weight of a sword felt in his hand. He remembered the taste of dust in the air, the cries of fighting men, the blood and pain and complete exultation of battle that had filled him when his blade met an enemy. Once away from the caste walls, the memories came flooding back; glory, honor, the bitter taste of fear that sent his heart pounding wildly as they charged, and his voice rising above all the others in a shattering warcry that had caused man and orc to flee from his path...

There! He heard soft spoken voices from the back alley across from them and it snapped him back into the here and now. He gestured to his men; just as the first few figures stepped into the street, they erupted from behind him, spreading out and circling around the startled group of thieves.

One of them, a woman who was walking point, shouted, "Run!" and chaos ensued.

The wagon dissappeared almost immediately, it's keepers dragging it down the street and into a warehouse, and Nevalle cursed inwardly as some of his men chased after them futily. One of the thieves, a dwarf, was battering at his guards with the handle of a wicked looking axe, and Nevalle drew his own sword, realizing that the dwarf had cleared an opening in the circle of guardsmen. "Stop them!" he cried.

It was no use. He saw the dwarf and the taller, horned woman, take off down the street; two of his men moved to chase after them, but Nevalle shook his head. "It's pointless."

"Sir!"

He turned. A struggling figure was being held by near three of his men, and Nevalle held out his hand for the guard's torch. He walked over, holding the light high; a woman, with the mixed features of most half-elves, was snarling at the men that held her arms pinioned behind her back. Nevalle was momentarily breathless...the torch-light flickered off of high cheekbones, a pert, freckled nose, and full lips that, at the moment, were pressed firmly together in a terrible frown. Her large eyes shone brilliantly green, and her short, dark hair surrounded her face in a riot of soft curls. He didn't realize he was staring until one of his men tapped his shoulder.

"Sir? What shall we do with her, sir?"

He snapped out of it momentarily. Leaning close, he narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Are you Braidee DeMarcus?"

She grinned at him, and he was disturbed at how his blood quickened. "You get right to the point, don't you?" she said, a slight, lilting accent in her speech. "What if I am?"

"Whether you are or not doesn't make much of a difference in what's going to happen to you," he shot back. "But you _will _answer me. Are you or are you not DeMarcus?"

"Hmm." She eyed him brazenly, and, of all the damnable things, he felt the heat creeping into his face. "You're not bad to look at, you know. But you _do _need to work on your manner of speaking to a lady."

He heard one of the guards snigger behind him, and he straightened, glaring down at the woman. "It doesn't matter who you are, thief; you'll see the gallows soon enough." He gestured to his men, and they drug her off...with her fighting against them the entire way, he noted.

He followed the rest of his men back to the Watch House, a dark melancholy falling on him. He attempted to shrug it off; what use was there for it? He had just caught (he assumed) a notorious criminal that had been terrorizing the Docks for the better part of a month. He should be elated_. Finally, something good to report to Lord Nasher. _ He hadn't been looking forward to another dressing down...

He stuck his head in the door to Brelainna's office when he reached it. "She's down in your cells as we speak, Captain."

Brelainna exhaled in relief. "Finally, my lord! Well done, I knew _you'd_ be able to catch her."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said dryly. "I'm going to wrap a few things up in my chambers at the Castle, and then I'll let Lord Nasher know he has one less thing to worry about. I'll want your report by tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," she said earnestly.

As he left the building, he thought he distinctly heard that lilting, accented voice, taunting one of the guards from the cell block. It brought to mind an image of deep, green eyes and the flash of that seductive grin...

He shook his head to clear it. _What's gotten in to you?_ He'd forget about the girl once she was hanging from the gallows. That's all there was to it.

o o o o o o

His head was bent studiously over the report he was preparing; his mind was full of words, terms, and figures, and he was so engrossed with the paper in front of him that he didn't hear the window open with an almost indecipherable _creak. _It wasn't until the sound of light footfals dropping onto his floor that he looked up, startled.

The woman he had arrested earlier smiled at him, tucking a small, L-shaped tool into her belt. "The locks on your windows are a little old," she remarked lightly. "Easy to get around; you might want to think about fixing them." Her smile widened. "The locks on your prison cells, as well."

He stood, knocking his chair backwards. He reached for his sword and scabbared, propped against the desk, and with a metallic ringing his blade was out, pointed in her direction. He stared at her, more in shock than anything else. "How did you...?"

"Escape?" she finished for him. She placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head at him in amusement. "You honestly thought a _cell _would hold someone like me, sir knight? There's a reason Axle had me in charge of that run...and many other things, as well." She started moving around his desk, and he snarled at her.

"Get back."

"Or you'll what?" She arched a brow at him, moving closer, until the sword point hovered just inches from her chest. "I saw how you were looking at me, knight. You don't really want me to hang, do you?" Her voice was low and sweet, a mocking parody of a plea.

"You've broken the law! And you've made my life a living hell, traipsing around the docks, undermining the Watch...you _burned _the Watch House..."

"Oh, nobody was hurt. I made sure of that myself, you know." She smiled again. "You should be grateful someone like me is doing Axle's work. You know what some of his other thugs are like; if they were running things, this city would be bathed in blood." Her fingers tiptoed down the edge of his blade playfully. "As for making your life a living hell, as it were...well, I could make it up to you."

He couldn't believe his ears. _Of all the brazen_..."I'm calling the guards, and you're going straight to the gallows. Obviously a prison cell won't hold you." He made his voice cold, uncaring, but his pulse was _pounding_ in his head like a hammer.

She arched a brow at him, and gently pushed his sword aside...the blade moved away, and she sidled close, her hands sliding up his chest, the full length of her body pressed against him. He stared down into her face, his blood on fire...he could see the light dusting of freckles across her nose, count the long, dark lashes that fringed those green eyes staring up at him. Her lips were full and inviting, and she flashed that disarming grin that had struck him to the core earlier. "So call the guards, then."

The sword dropped to the ground with a clatter, and his arms were around her in an instant; his kiss descended on her, fierce and passionate, and she melted in his arms, her entire body fusing against him. One hand raked through his thick, sandy hair, and his grip tightened as the other deftly slipped up the front of his tunic. The soft tips of her fingers slid over the rippled muscles of his abdomen, and he sucked in his breath as they teased the small trail of light, curly hair that started at the base of his navel and continued downward, dissappearing into his trousers.

He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, hardly believing this was actually happening. "What the hells are we doing?" He stepped back from her, attempting to re-gather his dignity. "You...you need to get out of here."

"I'm not quite certain you want me to leave," she said dryly, shooting a pointed glance between his legs. It seemed despite his words, he was extremely eager...in a very obvious way.

He frowned at her, warring with himself inwardly; she ignited a fire in him that he had thought lost in the drudgery of the Court, the mundane, petty tasks that were required of a noble. His heart hadn't pumped this fast since he had fought his last battle years ago, at Nasher's side. The dust that had been collecting on his soul had been roughly shaken off, and the woman who had done it had just walked to his chamber door and thrown the bolt home, locking it neatly. She smiled at him, and once more she moved to him, a smile on her face and naked longing in her eyes.

"Sir Nevalle...that is what they call you, yes?" she whispered, deftly undoing the buttons in his tunic. "Lord Nasher's right hand. One of the noble Nine of Neverwinter." He shut his eyes in ecstatic agony as her lips trailed across his bare chest. "I've heard tales of you, how you fought in the war...such a _warrior _they made you out to be." She was face to face with him now, her hands sliding his tunic back off of his shoulders, letting it crumple to the floor behind him. "I saw it in your face tonight; that desire, that fire for battle. You are wasted in this castle, rotting away behind a desk. I wonder if that warrior I heard of even exists, anymore." Her tone was light, slightly mocking, but there was a warm, knowing smile on her face.

Nevalle deftly reached around her waist and lifted her off her feet, illiciting a surprised squeak from her that made him grin. Carefully, he lowered them both to the floor, and stretched out bodily on top of her, his mouth trailing down her neck to where his hands fumbled with the hooks in her leathered armor. She laughed, high and lilting, murmering "Maybe he does exist," before the knight's mouth closed over her own.

It was a long time before either of them said anything else.

o o o o o o

Brelainna knocked on the door to Nevalle's chambers early the next morning. "Sir? I need to speak with you.

The door opened, and Brelainna had to restrain herself from gasping in shock. Nevalle's face was ruffled and untidy, his clothing wrinkled and unkempt. He nodded at her formally. "Do you have that report I asked for, Captain?"

She coughed uneasily. "Um...Sir, last night, the prisoner...well, it turned out she _was _Braidee DeMarcus, but after we got that information out of her, she somehow...managed to escape."

He arched an eyebrow at her, his face cold. She nearly flinched when he spoke; there were daggers in his words. "And _how _exactly did she manage that?"

"We..er...we think she managed to pick the lock on her door. The guards didn't notice anything until one of them brought her bread and water and found her cell empty." Her face was pale, and she stared straight ahead with the expression of someone facing an on-coming barbarian horde armed only with a pitchfork.

He stared at her, his eyes burning like twin blue flames. "It seems we're to be out-maneuvered in our own city by a band of reckless thieves," he said curtly. He rubbed his eyes with a hand and sighed in disgust. "We can waste no more time or energy trying to find this..DeMarcus. Obviously our own forces are spread so thinly they can barely handle simple guard-duty." He narrowed his eyes at Brelainna. "You will rectify the situation, Captain."

"Yes sir!" She snapped to attention, just in time to have the door slammed in her face.

o o o o o o

"Oh, that was neatly done." She slipped from the shadows, grinning at him. "I think you thoroughly terrified her."

He snorted at her, but couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto his face. "You do realize that I'm risking much by not turning you in."

"Aye, I do, at that." Her smile softened. "I hope you realize as well how much I'm risking just by being here. Now I've got to spin some tale to Axle about where I was all night."

He frowned at her slightly. "We could use someone like you, you know," he said, his voice earnest. "You've got brains, and...well, talent, obviously, I don't think anyone's ever broken out of Brelainna's cells." He moved to her side, cupping her chin in his fingers. "The Shadow Thieves just don't seem to suit you."

"Trying to recruit me, are you?" She laughed lightly, brushing his hand away; her fingers caught in his for a moment and she gave them a light squeeze. "You're a good man, sir knight. I like you." Her smile warmed him to the bone. "But I'm not cut out for politics, I'm afraid. And there's something.." her voice lowered seriously, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. "...something that I need to find out. That I need to do. It's important, and I doubt you could help me with it. But I need Axle's help to do it." She smiled at his dissapointed expression, and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the window. "Don't look so down-trodden! You just might see me again, knight.."

"What am I going to do if they catch you again?" he said helplessly.

She wriggled out the window; he saw a flash of green eyes as she lowered herself down, her laughing voice calling out just before she dissappeared below the sill; "Arrest me!"


End file.
